Stuck in the Middle with Them

It’s hard to avoid eavesdropping when you are literally standing in line between 2 people, so, in line at the dollar store…

1st guy: “Didja know Biden gave each migrant a Visa card and a smartphone?” {Disclaimer: the cell phones in question can only contact the immigration service app.}

2nd guy: “Yeah, but we still have to pay taxes.”

1st guy: “Everything’s upside down.”

2nd guy: “Trump’ll straighten them out.”

{Disclaimer: NO HE WON’T, BECAUSE THEY CAME UP WITH A BIPARTISAN IMMIGRATION PLAN, AND HIS MINIONS IN THE HOUSE QUASHED IT, SO THAT HE CAN RUN ON IT AS AN ISSUE.}

Since I am a Radical Centrist (at this point, being a centrist is itself radical), surely all of you are asking (surely!), “But, World Leader, what do you have to say about the Left?” Just reflect on the terms “identifies as,” and “product of conception,” and you’ll know. But at least they’re not plotting to overthrow democracy, so I’ll vote for them. While I’m still allowed to vote.

By the way, ya notice that all the fawning illustrations of Trump slim him down, and give him abs? Therefore, whenever you make graven images of me, please nip off a few pounds, give me the high cheekbones I could have inherited from my father and didn’t, and make me look good in black.

AD MAGIC

Lands’ End catalog: “Swim shorts in three lengths and fun colors!” Except that the longest length only comes in navy and black. Wait, those are fun colors!

“We’re the best for the way you business.”

MY FAST-FOOD UNIVERSE IS SHRINKING

Tried going to Taco Bell on St Joe, went to the counter, and the employee said, “Sorry, you’ll have to order at the self-service station. I can help you with it if you like.” Or you could just, um, take my order. I said, “That’s OK” (it was not), and walked out. So, Taco Bell is trying to make me do their job, McDonald’s is too oniony, Lic’s and Lee’s have gone away mysteriously. I can usually be found at Subway. EAT FRESH OR DIE!

THE GREAT RESTROOM CONSPIRACY

The drugstores are against me, too. I headed for the restroom at Walgreen’s, and an employee stepped in front of me and said, “The restrooms are closed, a guy, well…We’re getting a man in to clean them.” I thought, “A guy messed up both of them?” I also noted that the signs on the doors didn’t say “CLOSED FOR CLEANING” or “OUT OF ORDER,” but “NO PUBLIC RESTROOMS.” I moved on to CVS, which had a sign on the restroom door that said “LOCK IS BROKEN.” I thought, OK, someone will just have to knock or take their chances, I’M GOIN’ ON IN ANYWAY, but no, they meant that the door was stuck on “LOCKED.” And after Covid, they changed their restrooms from mens’/womens’ to employees/civilians, and there’s a big red-letter sign on the employees’ that says NO ADMITTANCE.

That was several weeks ago, and Walgreens still hasn’t gotten a man in to clean their possible biohazard, nor has CVS fixed their lock. So I’m thinking that they want to not have public restrooms, but not take the bad press of not having them. It’s like Dollar General, where the policy is to put in restrooms, then put an Out of Order sign on them for the rest of forever. (The one down the street put one up as soon as they moved in years ago, and apparently it’s still out of order!)

This is on the heels of activism about the U.S. practice of being able to use a restroom being dependent on a private business allowing you to, which has always struck me as haphazard.

P.S. Scratchy Glitter is now 11 years old! So buy me a drink or something.

Is There Anybody Out There?

…Just nod if you can hear me, is there anybody home?” is what I wanted to sing into the microphone (and I grew up spelling it “mike,” and don’t know why we think it’s now spelled “mic”) when someone on the air would ask me for a sound check. But instead of singing Pink Floyd, I would just do what everyone did and say “5-4-3-2-1.” A colleague once said that when someone said, “Gimme a short count,” we should just say “1”. I don’t remember who that colleague was, but I never had the nerve to do that, either. And it would have been safe to do it, because I could always claim the equipment cut me off.

A little girl at the convenience store asked me, “Are you homeless?” I think it was because I walked up, instead of driving up, which should lead us to examine the nature of our society, but won’t.

Earlier this week, I *walked* into the Thornton’s restroom, went into a stall because the door was ajar, and witnessed a woman’s entire butt (well, except what Saturday Night Live called “the worst part” of the butt). She was in the process of pulling up her pants, but(t) hadn’t quite gotten there yet. I can only hope she didn’t know I was there, and I didn’t see her face, so we should be OK.

So who says I don’t lead an interesting life?

Commercial for a nutritional supplement–“Contains active mushrooms.” As opposed to the ones just sitting there in our yard. Or the over-active ones that poison you. They also say, “Contains adaptogens!” Whatever they are. I need something to help me adapt, but the stuff is green and gross-looking, so I’ll just have to remain set in my ways.

MY INTERESTING LIFE, CONTINUED

I was standing at the bus stop, and a woman standing behind me exclaimed, “Girl, you’re between my legs right now!” I glanced (OK, I might have glared) back, because that’s a weird thing to hear from someone standing behind you. Turns out she’d almost dropped her phone, but caught it between her knees. Then she said to her friend on the phone, “This old Karen just looked at me! Old people walking down the street and looking!” How dare they.

WARNING! WARNING!

McDonald’s has decided to “class themselves up” and now cook all their burgers with onions. (The class level of this should be obvious by the fact that White Castle has always done the same.) This means that even if you order your burger plain, as I do, it will taste oniony. Eww! So McDonald’s and I have parted ways.

Is there anybody out there?

I Got No Expectations

…to quote the Rolling Stones, but thanks anyway to all those who have stopped by here recently.

MY CURRENT LEAST FAVORITE COMMERCIALS

A list subject to change at any time, like life itself.

–The guy singing a duet with his hood ornament about which one of them is smarter.

–The one with that soccer player with purple hair who’s kicking balls at people’s heads to get them to eat veggies at Subway instead of burgers somewhere else. I take no diet advice from people with purple hair, even under threat of violence. When I do go to Subway, I tell them to leave the veggies off. I bet she wouldn’t approve of my Cheetos, either.

The one with the woman’s vagina singing because of its successful conquest of a yeast infection. Seriously.

Metamucil saying you will feel “lighter and more energetic.” Yeah, because you’re running for the bathroom.

And the Charmin bears complaining about their itchy butts. “Not getting completely clean?” I don’t want to know about it. “Enjoy the go,” by the way, may be my least favorite butchering of the English language to date.

Speaking of which, there are a few small victories on the abuse-of-the-language front. Triscuits did not persuade us to just call them “-scuits,” and “a whole new way to cottage” never caught on as a substitute for “eating cottage cheese.”

Speaking of itchy butts, Nick is getting restless because I haven’t mentioned him yet, so I will merely note that the time for him to get me leggings as a birthday gift is running out. I will, however, accept a Mustang belatedly, but from now on I will insist on the electric model.

OK, I somehow told WordPress I wanted to skip a line every time I hit Enter, so this post may look a bit overly spacious. I did tell it I wanted the section header to be boldface, but apparently we had a misunderstanding.

Navigating the Afterscape

I stand before you, fully vaccinated. For the past, oh, forever, I felt like any attempt to post would involve Making Light of a Serious Subject, so I refrained. And of course, WordPress has done the usual “improvements” in my absence that I can’t understand, including removing the “leave it as it was” option, so let’s just hope I can muddle through. I wanted to find an apt photograph to add, and perhaps someday I’ll discover where they’ve hidden those.

“Start with the building block of all narrative–the paragraph,” they advise me, as if I don’t know what a paragraph is. Then, when I try to start *another* paragraph (AND I DON’T KNOW WHERE THEY PUT THE ITALIC/BOLDFACE BUTTONS, SO YOU’LL JUST HAVE TO DO WITHOUT), a prompt says, “Start writing or choose a block.” Well, I read about that whole “block” stuff back when they introduced it in, oh, 2019 or so, and didn’t understand it then, but “start writing” I do understand. In fact, I already did it. WHAT DO THEY WANT FROM ME? Oh, to be one of the *young* autistic people who grew up with technology and have a gift for it, rather than the other kind.

For instance, the assumption that everyone will have a car and a smartphone. “Vaccine passports? We’ll just design an app for that.” “The fast food restaurant of the FUTURE will have more emphasis on the drive-thru!” Yes, I know I am a tiny minority that no one should be expected to cater to.

BUT ENOUGH WHINING! HOW ABOUT A REVIEW OF THAT FAST FOOD RESTAURANT OF THE FUTURE?

I bring you the new Taco John’s on St Joe. The old one was tiny and carpeted, for a deceptively homey atmosphere. For some reason, they took advantage of the pandemic to tear it down and build again. It’s still tiny, but now has a weird red/green/white-tiled exterior that looks like what we thought was futuristic in the 50’s. {OK, now a bar popped up on the screen offering the option of boldface or italic, but when I clicked on it, nothing happened. Maybe this will all be boldface when I publish it. Life is strange.} But inside, it’s what *actually* is futuristic–cold gray cement that can be cleaned with a fire hose, and to which no germs can stick, including on the hard, slick red chairs. Kind of like *1984,* but less shabby.

OK, that was more a decorating review, since the food remains unchanged. But the fact that they will let you in to eat is news enough.

Yeah, this is a pitiful excuse for a post, but I have to build my strength back up gradually. Time to find out what this will look like! Who knows what settings I accidentally chose?

Jellyfish, Leggings, Perpetual Motion

Photo by Magda Ehlers on Pexels.com

When you type “science” into the Free Photo Library, a surprising number of jellyfish pictures come up. Maybe it’s related to that commercial for some type of supplement FOR YOUR BRAINNN, where they say, “based on an ingredient  commonly found in jellyfish!” Well, they are known for their intellectual abilities.

I was at McDonald’s, refilling my drink after picking up my dessert, and I overheard the employees talking–“Did that lady get her pumpkin pie?” “The older lady with glasses? Yeah, I just gave it to her.” So I am now THE OLDER LADY. Nothing like hearing it from people talking about you who don’t realize you can hear them. Rom said, “You could hear them–at least you’re not a deaf old lady.” Ageism has always struck me as the most stupid “ism” there is. You’ll never be black, or female, or whatever other group you think you’re superior to, but you will eventually be old. If everything works out for you.

In other news, I gave the guy at McD’s a $10 bill and 8 pennies for a $5.08 order yesterday, and he looked at me and said, “You gave me a ten dollar bill.” I said, “Yes, just give me five back.” He stared at me, then did as I suggested. Lest you think this sort of thing is limited to McDonald’s, I had the same thing happen at Taco John’s. Apparently the concept of giving change is foreign to the younger generation, because, hey, doesn’t everyone pay with a card? Or their phone? And it’s not like I’m a mathematical genius.

THE WAR ON PARTS OF SPEECH CONTINUES

“At Bayer, this is why we science.” If you’re scientists, you should be smart enough to know that “science” is not a verb.

“Panera’s Warm Grain Bowls are full of good.” GoodNESS. It’s goodNESS.

“This is how happy feels.” HappiNESS. Why is this so hard?

I should probably just give this issue up. Have you noticed I haven’t reminded you that leggings aren’t pants for awhile? {“You haven’t even posted for awhile,” they mutter.} When my dowdy-but-beloved Lands’ End (Serving Midwestern boomers since the 80’s!) features “Leggings for Every Body!” you know we’re doomed. Leggings are not really for every body. You just want to think they are.

Did you know that food commercials didn’t always have to feature the food in question being thrown through the air or through water? Drinks weren’t necessarily shown sloshing over the tops of their glasses, either. We seem to need perpetual motion. Even perfume bottles are often photographed as if the liquid is tilted or bubbling. I’m not sure what all this signifies, BUT IT MUST MEAN SOMETHING.

VOTE FOR ME! I WON’T SEND MY MINIONS TO STORM THE SECURE CONGRESSIONAL CHAMBER JUST BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE AN ACTUAL ARGUMENT TO OPPOSE THEM!

Ahem. When Rudy Giuliani responds to an argument by saying “Shh, shh, shh,” you know they got nuthin’.

 

 

 

Alcohol Is Writing For Me

Photo by THE COLLAB. on Pexels.com

And why not? It has for many before me. And I want to know what’s the problem with the unicorn in the background here.

THIS JUST IN

Fiona & Archer are now 8. She gave Rom a “note from the Cersive {sp} Fairy–I can write cersive!” and signed her name. Rom said the fairy hadn’t spelled “cursive” correctly, and Fiona said, “Well, she’s only 5!” She then admitted that there is, in fact, no cursive fairy. I see a career in politics in her future. Archer somehow managed to restrain himself from questioning belief in said fairy. If he had done so, it would have been in a sentence beginning, “Actually…”

ANOTHER DAY, NO ALCOHOL THIS TIME

See, I’m versatile.

My brother-in-law told me a story that reminded me of the old days of talking to the reality-challenged on 911. A neighbor in his apartment building came to him and informed him that:

1. The out-of-state license plates on the apartment building’s lot belonged to people who were here to spy on him,
2. These people hacked into his mother’s phone in an attempt to get at him,
3. What appear to be stars in the sky are actually drones spying on him.

He must be very important indeed.

COMING UP ON THEATER OF CRUELTY

Well, eventually. An account of Nick at the Fall Festival, although he’s now claiming he will attempt to avoid me. Probably because I’ve avoided posting about him at the festival a couple of previous years. And also because I had the barbs removed from his tail.

CAMPAIGN UPDATE

Vote for me! I know no one in foreign countries, so I can’t sell out the U.S. for political gain! Although, if I did, I would echo the guy I overheard at McDonald’s who said, “That whistleblower is the one they should go after!”

Also vote for me if you’re tired of politicians waving their arms around.

MY TRUE SUPERPOWER

On Friday the 13th Eve this month (namely, Thursday the 12th), I had finished my lunch at McD’s and took my tray to the trash can. Having dumped it, I turned and somehow got my foot caught in the legs of a baby chair, which somehow pulled my foot out from under me, and I fell–luckily on a well-padded area (of me, not the floor, although maybe the floor should be padded).. Sure, the baby chairs were lined up neatly against the wall, but hey, they were gray and the wall was brown, so…I was amused to note the following day that they’d put a yellow CAUTION cone next to them. The following day, it had been removed. How soon we forget.

I clicked on frequently-used words to tag this post with. I wanted “politics,” but they kept giving me “apologies” instead. Hmm.

The Rage for Incremental Change

Photo by Markus Spiske temporausch.com on Pexels.com

I am tired of the above guy and his smirk, but there’s a paucity of photos available when you type in “army backpack” (mostly boring people hiking), so you’ll just have to put up with him.

THE STUFF YOU SEE ON THE BUS

…which is beginning to be what this blog seems to be about, but AT ANY RATE….

There was a guy in front of me on the bus whose giant army backpack (camo, bedroll on the top, aluminum pots and pans clattering on the sides) bore a patch that said:

“U.S. SPECIAL FORCES

TERRORIST HUNTING PERMIT  NO. 911-01–T.M.

NO BAG LIMIT, TAGGING NOT NECESSARY

2001-2050”

Let’s just analyze this, because that’s what we do.

1. I bet every one of these patches sold said “Permit # 911-01.” Because, 9/11, September 11, 2001, get it?
2. So it expires in 2050? Good thing we got that terrorist thing knocked down by then.
3. Oddly, I felt not safer because this guy was on the bus, but less safe.
4. The fact that it said T.M. (trademark) led me to believe this was not, in fact, actual Army issue, a fact my actual Army source confirmed by his disdain.

My thanks, as always, to the people who keep checking to see if I’m still posting. Am I? It’s so hard to tell. (I hear Rom’s voice saying, “You have an obligation to your readers.”)

Oh, and the title is Stephen Colbert’s comment on the moderate Democratic candidates. VOTE FOR ME, I’M NON-THREATENING! Right, Nick? “I thought you were going to write a story about me,” he says pitifully.

P.S. I am eagerly awaiting the appearance of pumpkin pie at McDonald’s. It can’t be long now! McDonald’s–another thing I share with Trump.

 

 

It’s National Fragrance Day!

Photo by YUSUF Yulipurnawan on Pexels.com

Yeah, I know no one else cares. Anyway, I dreamed I made Mitsouko my signature scent.

COSMO ASTROLOGY 1987

…is full of perils. Even though it was the year I married Rom. So here’s

Taurus with Taurus: “You’re the most wildly stubborn sign in the entire zodiac, and so is he–which makes for titanic clashes. Neither of you is capable of giving an inch, and life is soon reduced to a series of battles about what to eat, which movie to see, where to vacation. ..even sensational sex can’t make up for so many downs.” Actually, we are agreed about where to vacation–at home. Travel bad.  Speaking of which, my email contains, “ENTER THE AARP TRAVEL SWEEPSTAKES!” No, please no!

Oh no, I spilled Redd’s on my velvet pen case! What will I do? IT’S NATIONAL FRAGRANCE DAY, OF COURSE I AM CELEBRATING!

Home decorating for Capricorn: “Have the place painted in a subdued pastel hue. Furniture is covered or accented in the same subtle shade, for a look that’s breathtakingly coordinated.” It’s so breathtaking when you can’t find the chair, because it’s the same color as the walls.

Romantic Rendezvous for Pisces: “In a rowboat on an isolated lake.” Yeah, I can’t see that leading to drowning or anything.

IN OTHER NEWS

You know a guy in a suit at Taco John’s is going to be annoying. “I need Potato Oles, and make sure they’re hot and fresh.” Dude, take your chances like the rest of us peasants.

Seriously, the state of my velvet pen case is troubling me.

What is also troubling me is that the state of Indiana has not sent my tax forms yet, because they’re hoping I’ll panic and file online anyway. Why am I not filing online? A.) I don’t have my printer hooked up, because I fear it, and B.) I resist any attempt to make me do something. Yes, I will  panic and file online anyway if the forms don’t come. Next question?

VOTE FOR ME, I’M THE OUTSIDER, AND I WILL NEVER MAKE YOU DO ANYTHING ONLINE WITH THE SPURIOUS ARGUMENTS OF “THAT’S HOW WE DO IT NOW” AND “YOU’RE ON THE WRONG SIDE OF HISTORY.”

 

 

 

I’ve Always Been a Spider

Photo by rawpixel.com on Pexels.com

You gotta love a spider vending machine, right?

MISHEARD COMMERCIALS

Similar to misheard song lyrics, only, well, you get the idea.

–For, I think, some TV streaming service: “Relax, put on your comfy pants…” sounds like “put on your puppy pants.”

==For a metastatic breast cancer medication: “I’m a fighter. Always have been.” I invariably hear this as, “I’m a spider. Always have been.” This raises two objections:

–If you were, indeed, a spider, breast cancer, metastatic or otherwise, would probably not be among your concerns. And,

–Haven’t all spiders always been spiders? Unless you don’t want to count the time they spent as eggs. And then you get into the philosophical/ethical controversy about whether spider life begins at conception or at hatching.

CURRENT FAVORITE COMMERCIAL

The McDonald’s one–“Gimme that fish! Gimme that Filet-O-Fish!” I find it creepily compelling. I do not, by the way, refer to said item as Filet-O-Fish when ordering. I refer to it as a fish sandwich, and encourage you to do the same. I also encourage you not to get tartar sauce, which is only mayonnaise with boogers in it. And, note to Hardee’s–Why do you think a fish sandwich should have lettuce on it? Of course, lettuce is pretty much pointless on any sandwich.

OBSERVATION AT WALGREENS

The amount of St Patrick’s Day merchandise is equivalent to the amount of New Year’s Eve merchandise. It falls into the in-case-somebody-cares category.

MORE CAMPAIGN PROMISES

I will abolish Daylight Savings Time, and make the Eastern/Central time zone dividing line the Indiana/Ohio border again. Or the Indiana/Illinois border. Something easy to remember. Of course, this may all be academic, since, if I become President, time as we know it will cease to exist.

Mmmm…Mitsouko by Guerlain

Photo by Tim Savage on Pexels.com

Mitsouko haunts me. This is the only perfume that brought tears to my eyes the first time I smelled it, and the only one I wear in my dreams. (I dream about shopping for others, but if I apply perfume in a dream, it’s always Mitsouko.)

Part of its spell for me is obvious–its basic building blocks of peach, rose, and oakmoss are my favorite notes. But Mitsy is so much more than the sum of its parts, and in a way that’s hard to explain. It’s like faith–if you understand it, no explanation is necessary, and if you don’t, no explanation is possible. It was created in 1919, and thus qualifies as unfashionable now, yet it transcends fashion. It smells like peaches, roses, and forest floor, but liking all those smells doesn’t guarantee you’ll like it. It smells intensely autumnal, but is glorious on a summer day (especially in the dampness which is such a hallmark of the climate here). It’s an introverted scent with its dusky woodsiness, yet it’s dramatic. Maybe melodramatic. Introverted yet intense.

It’s not a crowd-pleaser in this “Eww, someone’s wearing perfume” era. But it’s a masterpiece nevertheless, and ever the more.

IN NON-OLFACTORY-WORK-OF-ART-RELATED NEWS…

On pumpkin-pie box at McDonald’s–“Packed with all the flavor it could possibly hold.” Well, isn’t that true of everything? Apparently not, since one of their meal combos was described as “Just the right amount of yum.” Because yum isn’t something you want too much of.

I am in postage-stamp heaven. Currently available are–not only rose stamps but DRAGON stamps! (“Who uses stamps anymore?” Nick yawns, but he is just out-of-sorts because his picture is not on any of them. Also because I haven’t made him my running mate yet.)

HOW TO PROTECT THEM FROM THEMSELVES?

Cat Esmerelda fell off the top of the door, leaving claw marks on the way down.

Cat Glamour will eat any bits of kitty litter scattered on the floor.

This seems to me emblematic of our current political situation.

VOTE FOR ME. I’M THE OUTSIDER AND I WILL MAKE ALL THESE POLITICAL ADS STOP.